With a flick of hair over her eyes,
She carves intently a mysterious art.
Like a song following the rhythm,
Fireflies move around her heart.
She drives her imagination ,
Beyond the scope of my senses.
It's a gift of the grace,
To build without fences.
Dreamweaver makes it all,
For everyone's heart and
Dreamweaver wishes it all,
For everyone's dancing faces but
Who'll give her those dreams
Who'll make her free again
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 2:16 PM UTC
With a flick of hair over her eyes,
She carves intently a mysterious art.
Like a song following the rhythm,
Fireflies move around her heart.
She drives her imagination ,
Beyond the scope of my senses.
It's a gift of the grace,
To build without fences.
Dreamweaver makes it all,
For everyone's heart and
Dreamweaver wishes it all,
For everyone's dancing faces but
Who'll give her those dreams
Who'll make her free again
